


Piccola Anima

by TheBlackWook



Category: Football RPF
Genre: AKA HELL, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Drinking, M/M, Softies in love, because they were all so sad and crying, ft. The 2015 UCL final in Berlin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-02
Updated: 2018-05-02
Packaged: 2019-04-30 23:16:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14507607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheBlackWook/pseuds/TheBlackWook
Summary: This was supposed to be their grand night. His grand night. The night to go big and close a chapter of his career in the most majestic way. [...] But all his dreams came crumbling down tonight. | Andrea is inconsolable after the loss in the UCL final against Barcelona and Gigi is here to comfort him





	Piccola Anima

**Author's Note:**

> The title is literally the name of a song by Ermal Meta which was pretty much what I listened to while writing this. Enjoy !

This was supposed to be their grand night. _His_ grand night. The night to go big and close a chapter of his career in the most majestic way : _Il Maestro_ winning a new Champions’ League with Juventus, proving once again to Milan how wrong they had been to let him go.

But all his dreams came crumbling down tonight, in Berlin, and here he was, crying like a child, letting his emotions get the better of him and breaking his usually calm and serious façade. His teammates had come to him of course, offering comforting words and embraces, such as Paul. The Frenchman had pulled him against his chest for a while, seeing his distress.

They were all gutted, obviously, and seeing his boys like this did not help. But what really did not help at all was Gigi’s silence. His silence was the most devastating thing tonight. Andrea knew he was after the title, knew how everyone, anywhere, kept reminding this was the only trophy missing out of all the ones he had won over the years. Whether he knew it or not, this was an added pressure to play with and certainly not an easy one. And knowing his captain, Andrea thought he was more likely blaming himself alone for the loss when he had done nothing wrong and everything he could. Bottom line was : knowing Gigi and seeing his reaction, it only made things worse for Andrea.

They took their medals with heads down, though they remained fair losers and congratulated their opponents, some of whom Andrea had played many a game against and for whom he bore good sportsmanship to. They quickly fled to their locker room afterwards. Big bottles of champagne were prepared in case the outcome had been happier. Their hearts sank at the sight. They listened to the coach’s speech with tired ears; some of them were still crying. Andrea tried hard to be the wise and older comforting figure but he just couldn’t bring himself to, this hurt too much. They all went to the showers trying to wash away their sadness but to no avail. Andrea was one of the first out. He just needed something so he went straight for one of the bottle of champagne, opened it and took a long, bitter, chug out of it, not caring in the slightest what anyone would say to that. He did not know when he had resumed crying but he was now, still drinking. He tried turning his back to the others who had returned in the room but only to find Gigi in front of him. The midfielder stopped for a second, seeing the keeper’s face filled with concern, more so than sadness or disappointment. How ? How could he do this ? How could he always be the one putting his feelings aside to think about others first ? Andrea just lost it then and outright sobbed before him, only to feel his big and calloused hand on his cheek in an instant, before pulling him into one of the tightest hug he had ever received. He cried against his chest as Gigi gently passed a hand in his hair to soothe him and whispering calming words in his ear. He kissed him then, on his bearded jaw, which prompted Andrea to put the champagne aside and tighten their embrace. They had to pull back, too soon for their taste, and Gigi came comforting their other teammates, but still keeping an eye on Andrea.

None had the heart to take the plane through the night, they were too exhausted from the game and the loss. They stayed the night at their hotel. Andrea had snuck out of his room and go to the almost empty bar. He had been nursing a glass of whiskey for some time when he saw movement out of the corner of his eyes and he soon had company. He raised his head to his new neighbour :

“Gigi ?” the question of what he was doing here written in his eyes.  
“You were not in your room…” he only replied softly.

Silence fell between them. The smaller man turned his attention back to his whiskey and raised the glass to his lips.

“Don’t…” Gigi’s voice was barely a whisper. He had covered his hand on the table with his. “Enough alcohol.” He met his eyes then “Come with me ?”

Andrea put the glass back on the table and rose from his seat, as his teammate did, their hands still intertwined and none of them ready to let go. They went back to their floor in agreeable silence. When they got just before the door of Andrea’s room, they stopped, their hands latching onto one another. Words seemed to fail them. So, Gigi raised a hand to Andrea’s cheek, earning the faint of a tender smile. He caressed it softly. 

“Andrea…” he began

He huffed : 

“Don’t speak. Just kiss me already, old man.”

This earned him a light chuckle and he swore there was nothing else in the world he wanted to do than hear that chuckle again, see that smile again. Except another thing or two he was more focused on, now that his captain’s lips were on him, just as he had commanded. They were soft, taking their time to savour the kiss. He tasted of champagne and something else, chocolate maybe, he could not tell. Their hands found their way to their waists, bringing one another closer. In between kisses, in the mix of breaths and longing sighs, Andrea whispered :

“Make me forget, please. Make me forget everything but us.”

The taller man was kissing his neck and nodded softly against his skin, half kissing and half hugging. The midfielder opened the door, glad for the mistake in the booking and not having to share his room on this particular occasion. They went inside, locking the door behind them and facing each other then.

Tonight was not about urgency, tonight was not about passion. Tonight was about comfort, tonight was about love. 

Gigi approached him, slowly, gently cupping his face and kissing his forehead first and then the rest of his face. Andrea sighed contently, a small smile appearing on his lips. Their mouths finally met again and they could have burst and fly away like butterflies. Gigi’s hands found their way under Andrea’s shirt, taking their time to touch his bare skin, taking in in all the chills they sparked.

They undressed slowly, caressing their exposed body with care, before the keeper gently pushed the midfielder to the bed, hovering above him. That night, they were all breathless sighs and whispered names and crumpled sheets and a tangle of limbs, so much that they only looked like one and the same body.

Later, as they laid embraced, Andrea whispered to a seemingly asleep Gigi :

“Thank you. I needed this.”

His lover opened his eyes then, looking at him, all façade of the protective captain he usually was, gone.

“ _We_ needed this.”

And just like this, he acknowledged his own emotions, trusting Andrea enough. The long-haired man smiled, sincerely, and kissed him softly for a moment, before nestling himself back into his arms and back into sleep. Together, they would go through the night comforted, content and protected. Together, they would go through anything.


End file.
